


Please Don't Leave Me

by Happylilkatsudon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: I made this just to make y’all cry if we're being honest, M/M, May be triggering - suicide, Please excuse the crappiness this was probably one of my first oneshots ever lol, Sad Ending, VictUuri, Victuri, Vikturi, ha sorryyyyy, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happylilkatsudon/pseuds/Happylilkatsudon
Summary: In which Yuuri and Viktor get into a car accident and Yuuri ends up on life support.





	Please Don't Leave Me

Everything happened so fast. The seatbelt had been forgotten, the car had come too fast, and the screams had been too loud. Those screams, those cries for help, hadn't lasted long enough, for the voice that the words belonged to stopped too soon. The person those words belonged to had fallen too quickly into an involuntary coma while he lay helpless in the wreckage. Viktor hadn't been able to help Yuuri as he lay there alone and vulnerable. He had felt his own heart breaking when he realized he could do nothing for his partner.

Fast forward to now. Viktor sits idly in one of the ICU waiting rooms that exists in the building, his thoughts churning and turning about. His leg bounces impatiently, and his eyes go to his watch every five minutes. He had asked for permission to see Yuuri a few hours ago, but the overseeing nurse behind the counter in the room had denied him access after finding out that he was not related by blood nor marriage. He waits now for news about Yuuri's condition from Yuuri's parents and sister (only three were allowed in an ICU room at once), but his hopes are not high. He knows without a doubt that Yuuri's condition is rapidly declining.

His mood has dropped signifcantly since the accident, and his appearance shows it. His eyes are sunken in and slightly red, and a stark crease rests between his brows; his cheeks are hollow, his lips are cracked: These are all evidence of his time spent in this room. His hair, too, has taken a backseat in the list of Viktor's priorities. Its unusual shiny silver color is dull and rough and even dirty. He is a sore thumb sticking out in the room when compared to the others beside him.

"Viktor," speaks someone from the door of the waiting room, causing Viktor's eyes to for once dart to them instead of to the worn watch on his wrist. Yuuri's mother and father stand in the threshold, both of their eyes bloodshot and their noses running. Mrs. Katsuki tries and fails to attempt a smile, her lips instead turning down and her hands coming to her face. Mr. Katsuki holds her close to him and directs both of them toward the two empty seats next to their soon-to-be son-in-law.

"Viktor," speaks Yuuri's mother again, though her voice shakes. She places a hand on Viktor's knee in a motherly attempt to comfort him, but it does nothing to calm the nerves running through his veins. "Viktor, honey. I-I don't know how to say this, but we -- I . . . I don't know how to say this, um . . . ." As Hiroko begins to cry, her husband tries and fails to comfort her, and Viktor suddenly knows why she cries, knows that this will be the worst thing he will ever be told.

"Mr. Katsuki?" Viktor asks, and his eyes dart back and forth between the mentioned's left and right eyes. The instant drop of eye contact and refusal to say anything are both tell-tale signs of the words that hang in the air yet refuse to be mentioned.

Yuuri is going to die.

The pain that settles in the middle of Viktor's chest propels him out of his seat and through the hall. He punches the elevator button one, two, three times in impatience. He feels like he is going to throw up. His world is crashing down around him, and he doesn't know how to make it end.

It takes little time before he finds himself in the hospital chapel, which he finds ironic; he doesn't even believe in a god. The fears and pain he is facing overwhelm him, and the teats come all too quickly. The pain in his chest blossoms throughout his body, and all he can think is no, no, no. He's all alone with only his wracking sobs and breaking heart to keep him company in this small, supposedly holy room. He finds no comfort in the cross, the Star of David, nor the various holy books and deities that decorate the room.

As most humans do in desperation to save their loved ones' lives, Viktor's thoughts begin to jump to fantasies of grandeur. Maybe the situation isn't as bad as it seem; maybe Yuuri actually is getting better. Maybe Viktor tricked himself. But then, why would Hiroko have cried the way she did? 

Oh, he didn't know what to do! His Yuuri was on that ventalator in that ICU unit, and there isn't a damn thing he can do about it. 

Okay, well, there is one thing, but breaking into the ICU isn't exactly something that he wants to do at the moment.

He glances down at the simple gold ring on his right hand, and he thinks how odd it is that Yuuri knew that Russians put their wedding band on their right hand. He loved Viktor to go the extra mile and do something new, and Viktor loved him for that, among other things.

Viktor knows that the only way he will be able to see Yuuri again is by breaking into the ICU, and the memory of his loved one's smile is what propels him off the floor of that chapel and through the doors of the elevator after it chimes its happy tune. He passes the waiting room and sees Hiroko leaning on her husband's shoulder, asleep and embracing peace. After seeing the sight, he steels himself against his newer doubts and waits behind the red line on the floor so that the doors don't hit him when they swing out. Just before he can press the intercom button, an older woman rushes in front of him and tells the receptionist about her visit. She seems to be on the harder side if sight, however, because she only notices Viktor, wide eyed and still stunned, when she has finished her short conversation. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she says. "I didn't see you there! I just finished lunch and was so eager to get back go my son that I just did as I pleased! My bad."

"It's perfectly fine, ma'am," Viktor responds, and it really is. His easy, crowd-winning smile returns to his lips. "I had just finished." Hey, he gets a free ride, worry-free. No way is he not taking it.

"Oh, that's good," she says, and she starts when the doors beep and swing out widely. She turns to him, smiling, and says, "Well, there it is! It was nice meeting you," before making her way through the door. Viktor follows not too far behind, and he easily slips onto the ward.

Okay, where is he, where is he . . . . Viktor walks calmly through the ward, his eyes glancing rapidly from door to door, scanning the names of the people that lay in each room. He almost misses Yuuri's name, but the sight of Viktor's last name next to Yuuri's first catches him off guard. He has to restrain himself from bursting through the door. He hasn't seen Yuuri since the accident, and even though he got out of the hospital a week ago, Viktor can't seem to find a way in to see his almost-husband.

The road to recovery wasn't easy for Viktor, and even now he still has some issues walking. He had been lucky enough for the car to hit the side that he hadn't been on, but it wasn't lucky to have Yuuri suffering in his place. If only Viktor had seen the car coming too fast around the bend, had heard the blaring of the horn as the driver swerved around one of the many deer in those mountains, had done something to save his love from the fate he now has to suffer. If only.

He doesn't bother to knock on the door. He doesn't care that it is slightly ajar, and he doesn't care that he shouldn't be back here in the first place. Who were these people to tell him what he couldn't do, anyway?

"Yuuri?" Viktor asks as he slowly enters the room. Upon seeing his love, his heart stops and his stomach decides that it wants to now live in his throat rather than in his abdomen. Viktor gags at the sight of the tube in Yuuri's mouth; he's almost grateful that it isn't him in that bed. Almost.

"Oh, God, Yuuri . . . ," Viktor breathes out now. His hand flies to his own mouth, and he slowly takes steps toward the bed with his other, unoccupied hand outstretched toward Yuuri's side. "How . . . how could I have ever let this happen to you?"

His hand shook as he placed it on Yuuri's forehead, and a small, barely noticeable tear escaped one of his eyes. No, no, this is not the time to cry, he told himself. You have to be strong. You have no choice other than to be strong.

"Hey, Yuuri," he says, sinking to his knees. The hard, cold tile is barely noticeable to his own soon-to-be-aching knees. "Remember when I told you that I would marry you if you won a gold medal? And remember how I couldn't quite keep my promise? Remember how we planned and planned and planned our wedding together?" As he speaks, Viktor's voice begins to crack, and his eyes begin to shine. It takes all of him to keep the tears and the sobs at bay.

He knows that this will be the last time he ever sees Yuuri again. Mr. and Mrs. Katuski didn't even have to say a word to Viktor about their plan yo take Yuuri off of life support; he had seen it coking a mile away.

"Oh, Yuuri," he says, relinquishing all hope of maybe, just maybe, being able to hold back his tears. His voice is lost in the back of his throat when he tries to speak again, and water falls freely from his eyes. He can't help it. He doesn't want to see the only man he's ever loved die.

"If only I'd offered to drive home; if only I'd told you not to rush back from our appointment so we could pick up Makkachin from our apartment and bring him downtown with us. I-I could've prevented all of this, and you . . . my God, y-you . . . . You wouldn't even be in this damn bed to begin with!"

His sobs grow louder and louder as he cries, and it isn't long until he is back in the fetal position just as he had been in the hospital chapel. No one notices that he's alone with Yuuri in this ICU room. Not that he cares to begin with, anyway. He isn't the only person crying today.

"P-please, Yuuri," he begs with eyes so tight they don't allow any tears to escape. "Please don't leave me . . . . D-don't leave me here by myself. . . . "

Viktor's ears barely register the sound of the room's door creaking from being opened, and they barely recognize the concerned voices of Yuuri's parents at the sight of him. He doesn't seem to be aware of anything that happens to or around him until he feels two pairs of arms lift him from the tile floor. Even then, he barely fights them. Even with eyes filled with water, he can see the pity in each of the Katuskis' faces and the faces of the healthcare professionals that plan to end his Yuuri's life.

"P-please let me go!" Viktor screams now, thrashing in the security guards' arms, a new, desperate energy filling him. He realizes they are taking him away from the only person he has ever loved. "I n-need to see him! Let me see him!" His cries are forgotten as he is carried out of the room, but not before he watches the respiratory therapist remove Yuuri from the only thing willing him to live. "Yuuri! No, oh my God, Yuuri! No!! Let me go!!" He tries on vain to remove himself from the hold of the two men, and his carried out of the ICU, kicking and screaming an begging for Yuuri to come home. 

 

~~~~

 

Only a month has passed since Yuuri's death. Viktor is currently watching T.V. while sitting with his poodle, petting the dog's head idly. He contemplates what others see as the most unforgivable sin, though he can't see how bad it might actually be. He just wants to see Yuuri again. And it isn't the first time he's thought of this. He's so lonely without his love, without his Yuuri. He misses him more than he would've ever thought possible. He misses him so much that it causes a hollow place in his chest to ache.

So he decides to do it. He doesn't bother to leave a note to explain why or what to do now that he's gone. After all, who might see it? He lives alone now that Yuuri is gone, and no one ever visits him anymore. He feels so impossibly lonely.

So he sends a text to the Katsukis, asking them to please care for Makkachin and make sure that he is happy and well fed while Viktor is gone. He feels awful for dumping this responsibility on them, but what else is there to do? His mind is made up, and he would rather not have Makkachin left alone to fend for himself in the apartment. He sends the text without hesitation and promptly turns off his phone.

What he does next is almost automatic. He goes to the medicine cabinet, collects a number of a few different prescription pills, and downs them without hesitation. "C'mere, boy," he says to Makkachin, and the dog looks up at him with happy eyes. "Let's go lie down."

As Viktor lies on his and Yuuri's bed, he thinks of all the pain that will now be over with. He is happy to finally be rid of the pains of loneliness.

"I won't leave you, Yuuri. Ever."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This is my second story on AO3, but I've been writing on wattpad for about three years now (I can almost hear the sighs lol). You can find this story under the same name and username over there. If you liked the story here, please let me know. Love you guys!


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